


Shared Life Experiences

by LadyOfSnakes



Series: Shared Life Experiences [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: AU Avengers Team, Crossover, Multi, Super Soldiers, will add characters as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4877221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyOfSnakes/pseuds/LadyOfSnakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers visits Peggy at her nursing home, and meets Illya Kuryakin, an old friend of hers.</p><p>An old friend who received a version of the super soldier serum in the mid-1950s, and hasn't aged a day since. Also, he's looking for work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Hello Steve. They're out in the garden today." The receptionist, a cheery young woman who recognized regular visitors on sight, smiled up at the blond man as he signed the visitor log.

"They? Is Sharon here?" Steve Rogers glanced out the picture windows, but didn't see Peggy or Sharon outside.

"No, she's got a different visitor, a Mr. Solo. He used to bring his great aunt to visit quite a bit. I think she used to work with Peggy." The receptionist handed Steve his visitor's pass. "Go ahead. They're over by the fountain, I think."

Steve nodded and clipped the plastic card to his jacket before heading outside. It was a beautiful day, and the garden of the nursing home was dotted with residents and their visitors. He spotted Peggy quickly, sitting on a bench and talking to a young man.

She saw him as he approached and waved him over, a sad smile on her face. "Illya, I'd like you to meet Steve. Steve, this is Illya Kuryakin. We worked together for a while, a long time ago."

The young man stood up, proving to be even taller than Steve. He held himself like a military man--probably still in, or at least not long out of the service, as he couldn't have been older than his late twenties. When he spoke there was the slightest trace of a Russian accent. "Captain Rogers. It's an honor to meet you."

Steve shook his hand. Obviously "Illya" was familiar with Peggy's dementia, as he didn't seem concerned with her mistakes. He also seemed to be completely comfortable with shaking hands with Captain America. "Nice to meet you, Illya."

Peggy gestured for both of them to sit down, and said, "Illya was bringing me some sad news, unfortunately. My good friend Gaby Teller just passed recently. You never got to meet Gaby, but you would have liked her."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Was that your great aunt?" Steve asked, "Rachel, the receptionist, told me you used to bring her to visit."

Before the other man could respond, Peggy started to laugh. "That is what you told them, wasn't it?"

Illya looked down, blushing slightly. "Please, ma’am..."

"For the last time, it’s Peggy. And are you still calling yourself Solo? You know he would have teased you for being so sentimental. Though now you get to meet his hero." Peggy smiled and reached over to pat Steve's arm, "Steve, Illya's partner Napoleon was so inspired by your tour he lied on his application form and joined the Army at sixteen."

Steve looked back at forth between them, confusion probably clear on his face. Either Peggy was mistaking Illya for someone else, or... "My tour? Can someone please explain what is going on? Who are you?"

The mood sobered quickly, and Illya hesitated before responding, as if he had to think about the words some. "I am Illya Kuryakin, formerly of the United Command Network for Law and Enforcement, before it was absorbed by S.H.I.E.L.D. And before that I was KGB. In 1956 I was the subject for a failed super-soldier experiment, codename Winter Soldier."

Steve studied him, wishing that Natasha was there. If Illya had tells, he was very good at hiding them. So Steve also put his training to use, carefully picking his next words. "But the Winter Soldier program wasn't a failure, and it started in the forties."

"I know that now. I do watch the news. I did not know until two years ago that the Winter Soldier was real. The program I was in was supposed to build an army. When it failed, it became a cover. I did not believe the rumors of the Winter Soldier for all these years because I was told I was supposed to have become him." Illya didn't meet his eyes, but Steve didn't think he was lying, just ashamed. "U.N.C.L.E. failed James Barnes by believing my superiors."

He kept watching the other man, processing what he was saying, but one thing didn't add up for Steve. "If you received the serum in 1956, and you look like a super soldier, how did the experiments fail?"

"I am not a Hulk, if that is what you are asking." Illya didn't seem offended by the comparison at all, "They declared a failure after a few weeks of testing, since nothing much changed other than more rapid healing, but I still get scars. I did not realize I had stopped aging until later, and no one else noticed until after I had left the KGB. It was not a big transformation, for me. The KGB....well, there were stories about you and how the serum made you so much bigger and stronger. They thought they should start with someone already big and strong, and if I’d died, no one would have missed me.”

Steve wondered if Illya had always been able to talk about himself like that, or if he’d been a tool for others for so long that it was the only way he saw himself now. “I take it you didn’t volunteer for the procedure then.”

“I did. There were not many other options for the son of a traitor.” Even then, Illya spoke simply, though Steve noticed him clenching his hands into fists, only relaxing when Peggy reached out and touched his arm.

"You are doing the right thing, Illyusha." Peggy took one of Illya's huge hands in her tiny, wrinkled ones. "Steve, he asked me to arrange for you to meet."

"After Solo... after our partner was killed in the line, Gaby and I retired. Now she is gone too, and I have no one left to protect. It has been a long time since I was active, but I am very skilled in combat and intelligence gathering. And it may help you to have someone who does not die."

"And I am his reference, Steve." Peggy added. “He is one of the most capable agents I’ve ever met, and personally helped save the world as many times as you have.”

Steve looked at the two of them for a moment before he replied, "Let me call someone. Give me a moment."

He stood and pulled out his cell phone, walking a little way down the path so he was out of earshot of Illya and Peggy. There was only one ring before Sam picked up.

_“Hey Steve, you on your way home already?”_

“No. I just had a very strange conversation. Is Nat around by any chance? I need to talk to her about this too.”

_“We’re watching her take Scott down in the ring, again. It’s pretty funny. What’s going on?”_

“I just met another super soldier.”

" _How many of you_ are _there?_ "

“Apparently the KGB experimented on him in the 50s, and he stopped aging then. He’s friends with Peggy, and apparently now that--either his wife or girlfriend or possibly a work partner, it isn’t clear--has died, he wants to be an Avenger.” Steve looked back over his shoulder at where the other soldier sat, still talking quietly with Peggy.

_“Steve, everything that happens to you is weird. I’m going to get Nat. But...”_

“Yeah, Sam?”

_“What do you know about him? Could this be some kind of trap?”_

“I don’t think so. Peggy trusts him.”


	2. Chapter 2

Steve could hear the muffled discussion through the phone for a minute or so, before Sam’s voice returned. _“Okay Steve. You’re on speaker with me and Nat.”_

“Does the name Illya Kuryakin mean anything to you?” Steve asked.

_“Yes, actually.”_ Natasha’s voice was clear, and didn’t sound at all like she’d just been putting Ant-Man through his paces. _“Though I’d be surprised if it meant anything to you. He was a cautionary tale they told us about in the Red Room. Top agent in the KGB in the sixties, defected when he fell in love with a foreign agent. He’s supposed to be long dead, though if you’re talking to me about him...”_

“He’s alive. He’s here, friends with Peggy Carter, and she wants me to give him a job.”

There was a long pause before Natasha replied. _“A job doing what? He’d been off the Red Room’s radar for a decade by the time I heard of him, and he’s got to be in his eighties by now.”_

“He’s a super soldier. He said they wanted to turn him into another Winter Soldier, but apparently they thought it failed at the time. He said he’s stopped aging and doesn’t die.”

_“And he knows the founder of S.H.I.E.L.D. personally? Set up a meeting with him tomorrow. We’ll need to do some more research on him.”_

Natasha apparently left right after that, because the next voice was Sam’s, and it didn’t sound like he was on speaker-phone anymore. _“I know you said Peggy trusts him, but should we reach out to Sharon anyway? Just in case he isn’t who we think.”_

Steve looked over at the man in question one more time. “Yeah, that might be a good idea. I’ll call her now.”

_“Steve, what’s your read on this guy?”_

“I don’t know, Sam. He’s a soldier. He might be one of us though.”

_“I look forward to meeting him then. Tell Peggy I said hi.”_

“I will.”

Steve heard Sam hang up, but held the phone to his ear for a few moments more, just thinking. He knew better than to trust just anyone, but so far everyone was supporting Illya’s story. One more call to make then.

He dialed Sharon. Thankfully, she picked up after one ring.

_“Hello, Steve.”_

“Hello, Sharon. I have a question, and it may sound a little paranoid, but do you know if your aunt knows someone named Illya?”

To his relief, he could almost hear her roll her eyes. _“Illya Solo? Yes, his Aunt Gaby is a good friend of Aunt Peggy’s. I’m assuming you just met him then? He’s not some giant assassin sent after her. You can relax.”_

“Right, thanks. That’s all I needed to know.” 

_“No problem. Tell them both I say hi.”_

“I will. Bye, Sharon.”

He put his phone away and returned to the bench where Peggy was telling Illya an apparently funny story about someone. “...And then Waverly just put his tie clasp back on as if nothing had ever happened.”

They both laughed, then Peggy looked up at Steve. “Well? What do your Avengers say?”

“Sam and Sharon say hi. And Illya, can you meet me and Black Widow tomorrow? She wants to do some more research on you before you meet.” There was no reason to hide what they were doing. If Illya really had that much experience as an agent, then this would be what he was expecting.

“Of course. If it helps her research, I was with the KGB until 1963, when I was loaned to U.N.C.L.E., working under Alexander Waverly. I never formally defected, but a few years later the KGB cut all ties. I was with U.N.C.L.E. until 1988, when our partner Napoleon Solo died, and Gaby and I retired. We lived in Annapolis, Maryland for the last twenty years.” Illya stood up, then pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “That is my number. I will meet you wherever you wish. Thank you for your time, Captain Rogers.”

Steve took the paper and shook the other man’s hand. “Of course. I will call you tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you. _Do svidaniya_ , Agent Carter. Captain Rogers.”

Steve sat down beside Peggy again and watched Illya walk away. He was still uneasy, but really, having another super soldier show up and ask for a job interview was less strange than how they had added Scott and Hope to the Avengers roster.

“You know, I tried to recruit him, Gaby, and Napoleon back in the seventies. Waverly wouldn’t give them up though, and they were happy with U.N.C.L.E. Also, I think Howard offended Illya somehow.” Peggy leaned against Steve’s shoulder. “Do you want to hear an old woman reminisce?”

“That sounds nice, Peggy. Tell me about them.”

“I was not there for this one, but apparently when they met, Illya was trying to stop Napoleon from helping Gaby escape East Berlin...”


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Steve returned to the new Avengers headquarters, he had heard several stories about the exploits the U.N.C.L.E. team had pulled back in the day. (Unfortunately though, Peggy had started to get confused towards the end of her visit, and he wasn’t sure if the last story of Gaby Teller attempting to out-drink Dum-Dum Dugan was accurate.) He found his boyfriend sitting on a couch in the common area, several files spread out over the coffee table in front of him. He leaned over the back of the couch and pressed a soft kiss to Sam’s cheek, then asked, “Interesting reading?”

Sam closed the file in his lap and looked up at him, “I get that you and Nat and Clint were all employed by a shadowy extra-government agency, and I get why she dug up these files, and I get that HIPAA wasn’t a thing back in the sixties. But I still don’t feel right talking about what’s in here when he hasn’t even given me permission to see it.”

“So those are psych evaluations then?” Steve sat down beside him and looked pointedly up at the ceiling while Sam closed the files on the table as well. “Does it help that he was completely expecting Natasha to look him up and gave me some more dates and names to help that that?”

“Possibly, and not really,” Sam dropped the file in his hands onto the pile on the table, then leaned back and sighed. “Though I can tell you that this guy has been through some things. That explains just about everyone here though.”

Steve smirked, “Just about?” 

“I am not equipped to evaluate Vision, and Rhodey, Hope, and I are clearly better adjusted than the rest of you. Though I suppose that is relative.” He leaned into Steve when he put his arm around his shoulders. “What I will tell you is that I think Clint will like this guy.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Steve relaxed and smiled, knowing that tone in Sam’s voice.

“He’s great at boats too.”

Steve snorted, and Sam laughed too before continuing, “And he actually is. Illya Kuryakin got a silver medal in powerboating in Russia’s national championship in 1958.”

“That’s was after the serum. I’m surprised they let him compete, even if they thought it failed,” Steve said. “They would have never let me compete in the Olympics.”

“I’d like to point out,” Sam replied, “That the only part of this you are calling into question is the the ethics of Soviet sporting competitions in the fifties.”

“Point conceded. But like you said before, everything that happens to me is weird.”

The two men sat for a while in silence. It was rare that they had a chance to relax like this, so they always tried to take advantage. There was always some crisis going on, either outside the facility or within it. The quiet didn’t last too long though.

“Hello boys,” Nat said as she strode into the room, carrying several more folders in her arms. She dropped them on the table, then perched herself on the arm of the sofa where they were sitting. “While F.R.I.D.A.Y. is still working on some verification for me, it looks like this is the real deal. Illya Kuryakin is alive and has been living in Maryland as Illya Solo for two decades.”

“That is exactly what he told me,” Steve said, a little relieved. Even now, after everything he’d done with the strike team and then the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., he still was not comfortable with espionage.

“I don’t think you guys are appropriately excited about this. Finding out Illya Kuryakin is alive is like finding out that Santa Claus is real.”

Sam sat up straighter and raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Yes, in that I was told about him as a threat to get me to behave well as a child, and I am one hundred percent sure he could sneak into my home without alerting anyone.” She flipped open one of the folders on the table to reveal some papers written in Cyrillic and an old photograph that looked identical to the man Steve had met that day. “Though thanks, Steve. I was just thinking our ratio of former assassins to regular people was getting a little thin. It’ll be nice to have some company.”

That made Steve sit up as well. “He didn’t mention anything about assassinations, and neither did Peggy.”

“From what I can tell, that wasn’t his role in U.N.C.L.E., but as KGB he absolutely did wetwork. Also he is--was--a national champion in sambo and judo. This is a very dangerous man who walked into our lives. And if he’s a super soldier...” Natasha let her voice trail off before closing the folder again. “Well, at least he’s interested in being on _our_ side.”

Both Natasha and Sam looked at Steve, who rubbed the back of his head while he thought. He’d been impressed that Illya had been so forthcoming about his past, though something hadn’t felt right at the time. This explained it.

Who could be surprised though?

“If neither of you found anything else that makes you want to veto this, I say we meet with him tomorrow. We’ll see what, exactly, he’s looking for out of this, and what he can bring to the table.” He looked between his two friends, and when neither offered an objection, he continued. “I’ll give him a call then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am 100% convinced that Sam Wilson would comply with HIPAA, even as an Avenger.
> 
> Also, while I am mostly basing this in the MCU, I will pull from the comics sometimes, particularly about Hawkeye.


	4. Chapter 4

It was drizzling the next afternoon when they reached the park. Natasha had requested the location, a quiet park that was unlikely to see much traffic in the rain. (Also, it would be nearly impossible to bug the wooded area properly.) They had arrived early, and while Sam and Steve sat at a picnic table under a pavilion, Natasha walked the perimeter again.

Steve’s phone buzzed, and he checked his text messages to see: _Is this a test? Blond man with sandwich and teenage girl and dog with one eye are tailing me._

“Well, he spotted the Hawkeyes,” Steve said, and sent back a simple _Good job_ in reply.

“That’s what we were expecting, right?” Sam asked.

“Yes. What we wanted to know was if he’d assume they were ours and if he’d confirm it.” He glanced over at the incredulous look on Sam’s face, “It was Nat’s idea.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “This just feels like a way to intentionally make someone paranoid.”

“We could show up on his doorstep and dragoon him into helping us take down the government, if you’re more comfortable with that method.” Steve looked up as Natasha returned to their table and sat down across from them. “He spotted the tails.”

“Both of them? Good.” She pulled out her own phone and sent off a quick text. “So now we wait.”

Illya approached them a half hour later, a little before their scheduled time. He shook hands with each of them, and if he noticed how each of the Avengers present were sizing him up as he sat down next to Natasha, he didn’t let on. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

Sam smiled at him and said, “Thank you for coming in with a reference. The last person we added to the roster broke into one of our facilities and stole some tech.”

“And beat up Sam.” Steve added.

“Yes, so thanks for not doing that.” Sam pulled a paper out of the folder in front of him and held it out. “This is a release form for your medical and psych records. We have accessed them already, over my objections, and I need your approval before we discuss them.”

Illya looked down at the form, eyes skimming over the legal language, then looked back up at them. “I am technically still a Russian citizen and a civilian now. I cannot give clearance. I do not believe _I_ have clearance to look at my files.”

“Not clearance, permission.” Sam said, “This is private information, and I’d like to have your approval before we talk about it. It is limited to discussions of whether you should join up with us and we will ask your approval before sharing any private information with anyone else.”

Illya nodded slowly, then took out a pen and signed the form. “I...appreciate the courtesy. I was anticipating you would have scoured them by now.”

“I have,” Natasha said, “Sam and I both like to be professional about our work. I have read both the S.H.I.E.L.D. file on you and the KGB file from the sixties.”

“I would expect no less than that from a Black Widow,” Illya said, and put his pen away.

“There are some differences between the two,” Natasha continued, opening up one of the KGB files. “But that is also to be expected, right? The last time this was updated was in the late sixties when they issued a standing kill order on you. They never let it lapse, though you have been presumed dead for a long time.”

“That sounds correct.”

Steve broke in then, “Before we go into these files and your past, I want to know why you decided to come to us. We don’t get many people auditioning to be Avengers. At least not people who are serious candidates.”

“I do not know if I should be an Avenger, but I can be useful to you. I do not think I can die, and even if I did, there is no one left who would miss me. I could be an asset.” Illya still sat stiffly, his hands folded neatly on the table where everyone could see them. He met Steve’s eyes directly as he continued, “I know I do not work best alone. And many people I have respected had great respect for you, Captain Rogers.”

“If you don’t want to be an Avenger, what do you want to do for us?” Natasha asked.

Illya shrugged, “Something useful. Something other than hiding and pretending to be just out of university. I would prefer not wetwork. Unless it is Hydra. I would not mind killing Nazis again.”

While Sam and Steve exchanged nervous glances, Natasha just smiled and jotted something down on the front of one of the folders. “Mr. Kuryakin, have you ever committed treason?”

“Yes. In 1963 I disobeyed direct orders from my handler to kill CIA agent Napoleon Solo and recover a computer disk containing information on an advanced nuclear warhead. He was under similar orders. I did not kill him and we destroyed the disk together. The next year I disobeyed direct orders to kill Napoleon Solo again. The year after that the KGB renounced me as an agent and I remained with U.N.C.L.E. until its dissolution in 1988.” Illya spoke conversationally, as if he’d just been asked about a slight mishap that might have come up in any job interview. “I do not anticipate that becoming a problem again.”

“Were you in love with both of your partners, or just Solo?” Natasha asked, ignoring Steve’s outburst of “ _Nat!_ ” at the question.

“It is okay.” Illya said, after a long moment when he just breathed deeply and clenched his hands tightly together. “It is relevant. Yes, we were all together, for as long as we could be. Solo, Gaby, and me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RNandSniper pointed out that people may not know what HIPAA refers to. It is a US act that covers a lot of issues related to healthcare, but the part Sam talks about is restrictions on sharing private health information.
> 
> Things I looked up while writing this chapter, whether they're mentioned or not:  
> Elo rankings and chess ranking abbreviations  
> How tall is Scarlett Johansson?  
> MCU timeline for 1943-1945  
> US Air Force NCO ranks


	5. Chapter 5

“I actually don’t see how that is relevant,” Steve argued, indignant, “Your personal life is not what we are here to discuss.”

“My personal life led to me being disavowed by the KGB, Captain Rogers. It is why if we had met twenty years ago, she would have been obligated to try to kill me.” Illya nodded to Natasha, who raised an eyebrow.

“Try?”

For the first time, there was a hint of a smile on Illya’s face. “Not to insult your skills, Black Widow. As I have told you, I do not think I _can_ die.”

Steve watched them carefully. Illya was being more than polite; he was deferential to Natasha. Then again, the Black Widow program had been around since before the war. He had probably met Natasha’s predecessors.

“Okay, how about we talk about that instead,” Sam said, jumping on the chance to steer the conversation to something that wouldn’t bother Steve quite so much. “Your S.H.I.E.L.D. file says nothing about you being a super soldier. What exactly are your abilities?”

“Your KGB file says nothing about it either.” Natasha added.

“It was redacted from official records after the experiment failed, and unofficial records burned in a warehouse fire in 1972. I do not know why it is not in S.H.I.E.L.D. files. Director Carter helped burn the warehouse. She knew what I was by then.” Illya’s hands twitched, as if he was going to reach for the file in front of Sam, but then thought better of it. “As for abilities, I am above average human in strength, speed, and endurance. I heal from injuries rapidly. I have also stopped aging, as far as I can tell. I turned eighty-four this year.”

Steve studied his face, “You said yesterday that the experiment was deemed a failure because your strength didn’t improve.”

“I was already above average strength. Improvement was negligible.” Illya shrugged, “I do not remember much from the experiments, or I would tell you more.”

“Too bad those unofficial files are gone,” Natasha said, “Why did Peggy Carter burn down the warehouse?”

“Gaby told her about the experiments. They were very angry.”

“And you didn’t try to stop them?” Sam asked.

“Have you _met_ Peggy Carter?” Illya replied. “And there were _two_ of them.”

Steve laughed, hard.

They moved on to discuss Illya’s skills, as if it was a completely normal interview for a completely normal job. He claimed to have maintained his skills, and had kept on top of developments in technology in general, though his area of expertise was still in surveillance equipment. Eventually though, Natasha opened the file in front of her and turned to a specific page. Neither Steve nor Sam could read Russian, though it was pretty clearly a medical form.

She pushed it in front of Illya for him to look at. “This is the most recent of the KGB psych evaluations for you. Is anything in there inaccurate?”

Illya took a minute to read through the paper, already knowing what it would say. “This is correct, except most places do not consider bisexuality to be a mental disorder anymore.”

Natasha nodded, “So you still have psychotic episodes?”

“What?” Steve asked, surprised. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed and he flipped through the S.H.I.E.L.D. medical files.

“Yes. Not as frequent. I have learned to control them more.”

“That’s not in the S.H.I.E.L.D. file, is it, Sam?” Natasha asked.

Sam shook his head, “No. Either S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t have all the information on you, or someone edited this before I saw it.”

He looked pointedly at Natasha, who shrugged again. “It wasn’t me. I printed the files as they were. Though why a S.H.I.E.L.D. file on someone who has been MIA since 1988 was digitized at all is something I want to know. I had to call in some favors to get the originals of the KGB files.”

Illya frowned as he looked back and forth between her and Steve, “I did not know someone tampered with my information. I did not mean to obscure anything. I have been honest.”

“Of course, we’ll want you to go through a more modern psych evaluation than this. You haven’t seen a psychologist since the eighties, have you?” Natasha continued, “But just remember that we’ve had the Hulk on our team. We all have issues.”

“Oh. No, I haven’t.” Illya looked down at his hands, though Steve noticed he wasn’t clenching them any more. “I have not seen any kind of doctor since before Gaby and I retired.”

“I think that’s the next step for us then, Illya.” Steve said. Like Nat had said, they all had issues, and Illya had put his to use before to save the world.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve drove them back to the Avengers facility. Sam sat up front with him while Natasha sprawled across the backseat, flipping through the files again. They had agreed that after Illya cleared a psych evaluation and a physical, they would come up with some kind of probationary mission.

“I wonder if he ever met Fury,” Steve said as he drove, “I didn’t think to ask that.”

“Nick hasn’t responded to the message I sent him yet. We should know by the end of the day though.” Nat responded, before snapping the S.H.I.E.L.D. folder closed again. “What’s bugging me is who tampered with his file? I’ll see what I can do, but if it was digitized in the nineties, there won’t be a log of the last person to edit it.”

Sam turned around in his seat to look at her. “It would have been nice to know about ‘psychotic episodes’ before this, you know. If you knew it was tampered with, why give it to me at all?”

“It’s the most up-to-date thing we had. The KGB file also said he was a ‘depraved homosexual’ who had been seduced by his CIA partner. I didn’t trust that it had all correct information either. They could have changed it to justify the kill order on him.” Nat shrugged, “Also, I don’t think Volatile Personality Disorder is a diagnosis anymore.”

“I think we should just wait for the evaluation,” Steve said, then glanced at Natasha in the rearview mirror. “And we should probably try to figure out if there are any more super soldiers out there in hiding.”

They tossed around a few ideas for probationary missions for the rest of the drive. There were some remaining Hydra cells to track down, and as far as they knew the cells only held conventional weaponry. It could be ideal, providing Illya truly was as caught up with modern technology as he claimed.

Once they reached the base, Natasha hopped out of the car. “Are you going to tell Barnes about Kuryakin, or should I? Just in case having another ex-KGB agent around is going to be a problem.”

“I’ll go talk to him. Sam, I’ll meet up with you in a bit.” Steve headed to the elevator. Despite the sprawl of the facility, it was just a short walk to Bucky’s quarters. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., please let Bucky know I’m on my way over.”

“ _Yes, Captain Rogers._ ” Said the ceiling, “ _He has requested that such alerts come with a reason for the visit. What is your reason?_ ”

“Right, sorry. I want to talk to him about a potential new member of the team. It is not an emergency..” Steve addressed the ceiling still, just like he had done with J.A.R.V.I.S., despite knowing the AI was not actually housed in the speaker system.

When he rounded the corner, Bucky was already standing in his open door, waiting. Without giving away a smile, he said, “Please, please tell me the new person can fly and isn’t someone I have to worry about stepping on.”

Steve laughed. “No flying, but you won’t step on him either. He’s taller than me. Can I come in?”

Bucky nodded, then turned and walked back into the apartment. He headed straight for the kitchen, where he had already poured out two cups of black coffee. He picked up one and gestured to the other, offering it over. “What’s his deal, then?”

“He’s one of us,” Steve replied, taking the mugs and sipping it. The coffee was strong, almost excessively so. The kind only Bucky and Clint chose to drink voluntarily. “He got a version of the serum. Apparently it didn’t make him stronger, but it stopped him from aging.”

The other man nodded, a grimace on his face. “How old is he then? Did he make the serum himself?”

“Eighty four. He’s Russian, ex-KGB. They told him they were going to make him into the Winter Soldier, then hid records of the experiments when they thought the serum failed. He then worked for U.N.C.L.E., which was an international law enforcement agency before S.H.I.E.L.D. monopolized that.” Steve took another sip, then put the mug down again. Really, that much caffeine was excessive, particularly when his metabolism gave him all the energy he really needed. “He’s been in retirement since the eighties, until now.”

Bucky eyed Steve carefully before saying, “And you want to be sure I’m not going to kill him if you bring him here.”

“Bucky...” Steve started, trying to be reassuring, but the look the other man gave him made him start over. “Yes, that’s part of it. Though the KGB disavowed him decades ago. Natasha was told to kill him if she ever met him.”

“Well, if they hated him that much, he must be a good guy,” Bucky drained the rest of his coffee mug, then hopped up onto the counter to sit. “I’m not going to kill him on sight.”

Steve nodded again, then pushed his mostly-full mug over to his friend. “He says he can’t die, and he’s been through an impressive amount of shit, so I’m leaning towards believing him there. I’m glad to know you aren’t going to attempt though.”

“What’s his name?” Bucky picked up Steve’s mug.

“Illya Kuryakin.”

“Kuryakin?” Bucky repeated. He took a long drink of coffee, and Steve watched his eyes scan the wall, as if he was searching for something. “That...I think I’ve heard that name. Kuryakin.”

“He didn’t say anything about meeting you, ever. He thought you didn’t exist until two years ago.” Steve said, surprised.

Bucky shrugged. “I might have been given a kill order for him too, for all I remember. It’s probably that. Don’t worry though, Cap. Your orders supersede that.”

“Thanks” Steve said, then quirked his eyebrow up. “What if I ordered you to stop drinking shitty coffee.”

“Over my dead body, Rogers.”


	7. Chapter 7

A week later, after Illya had cleared the psych evaluation, Steve met up with him again. Once more, they were meeting in the park. This time however, he hadn’t assigned Clint and Kate to tail the prospective new Avenger. However, Steve had a feeling they weren't alone.

“Good afternoon, Illya. Have you read the brief Black Widow sent?” Steve launched into work as he shook the other man’s hand. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had translated the KGB file in full for him, and Steve had read between the lines to guess that Illya would be more comfortable if they hit the ground running with the assignment.

“Afternoon, Captain. Yes, I have studied it carefully. Hydra remnants in an outpost that are looking to drop their weapon stores and disappear. No one high-level, and they seem to want to get out of the game instead of throwing their support behind one of the heads that remain.” Illya stood, ramrod-straight, until after Steve had taken a seat at the picnic table. Only then did he return to his own seat. “Three of the operatives listed are Sokovian, and two Ukrainian. My Sokovian is not entirely fluent, but should be sufficient if you want me to pose as a buyer.”

Steve nodded, “That’s one option. If they hand over the weapons to you without a fight, we can detain them and get the money back afterwards. There is also the overwhelming force plan.”

“There is a collateral damage risk either way, but it’s significantly less with subterfuge.” Illya pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, then spread it out on the table between them. It was a print-out from Google maps, with several points annotated. “Provided this is still accurate, they are likely to have back-up exits to their facility at these points. If we cannot cover all those access points, I would not encourage a front-door assault.”

Then, the Russian man hesitated, “I do not mean to step on any toes, Captain. I can follow orders.”

“Don’t worry about that, Illya. And please call me Steve. We’re not in the field yet.” He leaned over and studied the map as he continued, “Natasha agrees with you about the approach. She will go in with you, and you will have Scott and Hope for backup. And I’m fairly certain I was followed here, so you can meet one of them. Right, Hope?”

Steve looked a few feet to the left of Illya, and Illya followed his gaze.

After a moment, Illya asked, “Is Hope invisible?”

Suddenly, a woman appeared on the bench beside him. She wore some kind of suit with insect-like wings and a helmet. Illya didn’t jump, but almost as quickly as she appeared, he had shifted to a more defensive position.

Hope pressed a button on the side of her helmet and the visor lifted. “I am not invisible. I’m the Wasp.”

Illya’s eyes grew wide for just a moment before he steeled his face back to neutral. “The Wasp was real? Hank Pym really mastered shrinking?”

“You know my father?” Hope asked, seeming just as surprised.

“We met a few times. He didn’t like me very much. I was too Soviet for him.” Illya put out his hand to shake hers, “He told Peggy Carter not to trust U.N.C.L.E. because of me.”

“That does sound like him.” Hope shook his hand, then pulled the helmet off. “Hope Van Dyne. Very nice to meet you, Illya Kuryakin.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a mini-chapter to get me back into the swing of writing. I've been MIA due to some real life happening to me. (Good things though! I got married and threw a huge party and then went on vacation.)
> 
> I'm part-way through another piece of this story, the time when Napoleon and Gaby found out about Illya's lack of aging. There should be at least one chapter of that posted before the weekend is out.


	8. Chapter 8

The next day, Illya met them at a different park, one closer to his home. He started approaching the quinjet before they had uncloaked, earning him a nod from Natasha as he boarded. 

“How did you notice us?” She asked, looking back over her shoulder from her pilot seat. “Change in the wind from the repulsors?”

“Yes. And the grass needs to be trimmed. I could see where the engines were.”

“Good. I came in harder than usual.” She gave him half a smile, then turned back to the controls. Steve gave him a wave from the co-pilot seat, then returned to studying the map he had pulled up on the console in front of him.

He took the empty seat next to Sam, who was already in his Falcon gear, and across from Hope and the man Illya assumed to be Scott. “Hello Falcon, Wasp...” He tried, but he couldn’t resist smirking before saying “Ant-Man.”

Sam stifled a laugh and handed him a headset. Illya put it on and adjusted the microphone. The quinjet wasn’t too loud, but it appeared that the rest of the team wore them anyway.

“Hank won’t let me change the name.” Scott said, making a face. “So what are we calling you, Illya? Buckle up.”

Illya’s eyebrows drew together as he looked at the other man, before he secured the safety belt around his waist. Sam snickered again.

Scott grinned and checked his own seatbelt. “I’m a dad. Can’t help it. So what’s your codename?”

“I don’t have one. I have a cover for the mission, but other than that, just call me Illya.” He shrugged and braced himself slightly as the quinjet took off again. It really was a smooth ride, smoother than even the most high-tech helicopters he had ridden in before. Once they were in the air, there was a distinct hum that made him glad for the headset. It would be better than listening to the others shout to each other. He did not know the top speed of the aircraft, but he knew it would take hours to reach their destination.

Sam nudged him, “You haven’t thought about that? It seems like everyone I’ve met in the past few years has picked out a hero codename.”

“I’m not a hero,” replied Illya. He shook his head and suddenly felt very, very old. “I am a spy.”

“You can be both,” Steve said over the comm, though he didn’t look back from the cockpit. “Look at Nat.”

“Come on man, you have to have a nickname or something. Maybe an alias from before that you liked?” Scott asked.

Illya thought for a long minute before he replied. “I do, but it is not a good codename. My partners called me the Red Peril.”

Scott chucked, “Yeah, that’s not a great name. That makes you sound like a communist or something. Or something from a Bond movie”

Illya heard Steve and Natasha chuckling over the comm, and Sam’s shoulders were shaking slightly as he stifled his own laughter. Hope just closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the palm of her hand. Finally, Steve said, “Scott missed some of the briefing. He knows his role in this mission, but he doesn’t know who you are.”

Oh. At least that explanation made some sense. “I am a communist. I was an agent for the KGB and then U.N.C.L.E. during the Cold War.”

“Oh man, you _are_ something from a Bond movie.” Scott grinned at him, obviously pleased by that comparison.

And well, it wasn’t entirely wrong. Illya offered him a small smile back. Even if this new Ant-Man was thoroughly unprofessional, he seemed capable of adapting to new situations and information quickly; that could be an asset in the field. “I have seen the Bond movies. Bond was not a very good spy.”

“Don’t tell me you critique movies while you’re watching them.” Natasha said over the comm, “Stark thinks it’s fun to explain how the technology in sci-fi wouldn’t work. It ruins movie nights.”

Illya raised a questioning eyebrow to Sam. “You have movie nights?”

“She’s mostly joking.” He responded, “It only happened once or twice. Stark was concerned that Steve and Barnes hadn’t seen Star Wars yet, so we had to fix that.”

“He picked out the movie and ruined it by talking through it?” Illya smirked, “He sounds like his father.”

“Don’t tell him that.” Natasha said, before she fiddled with something on her dashboard. Holographic images popped up in the air in front of the passengers with a map of their target. “Our ETA is in two hours, so let’s review our intel and plan for this operation. Cap?”

“Falcon and I are the extraction team. We’ll stay back and cloaked until given the signal. Illya, you and Widow will enter at the flagged location. As you know, your primary objective is the weapons...”

**Author's Note:**

> This work is inspired by this wonderful prompt on Kink From U.N.C.L.E. [here](http://kinkfromuncle.dreamwidth.org/640.html?thread=334720#cmt334720). It is unbeta'd, so I'm sure I've got some errors in here. I haven't posted any fanfiction in over a decade until this past month, so I'm still getting into the swing of things here.
> 
> I have a tumblr I barely use, but I like following MCU and The Man From U.N.C.L.E. heavy blogs!


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